


Good Taste

by rockstarpeach



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bras and Panties, Caretaking, F/M, Helping to dress, M/M, Servants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 17:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11086680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockstarpeach/pseuds/rockstarpeach
Summary: Jensen and Jared are both live-in servants at the Collins' estate.  Jared keeps the pool (hello! Jensen's wet dream come true) and Jensen keeps the lady of the house, Genevieve.





	Good Taste

Title: Good Taste

Pairing: Jensen/Genevieve, Jensen/Jared

Rating: R

***

Sometimes, Jensen has to remind himself that Genevieve isn’t really his type.

Especially now, as he idly fingers through the drawer full of delicate lace and satin, feels the texture against the tips of his fingers. She’ll look beautiful in anything he chooses – she’d look beautiful in a paper sac – but today is a special occasion. He considers them all, imagines how they’ll feel against a tight body, under his hands. He eventually settles on his favourite, knowing full well that she’ll say no.

At first.

She’s standing naked in front of her three-part mirror, back to Jensen as he rifles through her intimates and waits for him to dress her. It’s not a bad gig, really. He has no idea what a fortune 500 housewife needs a _personal gentleman_ for (apart from the obvious) but Jensen can’t really complain. She’s a bit of a princess but she’s a good boss, and a decent person. And she’s not too hard to look at, either.

Plus, it doesn’t hurt that Jensen has more hours off than on and he gets to spend them in a kick-ass mansion with all the amenities. The live-in chef is amazing, the cable sports package on the home theatre is a dream come true and the oasis pool in the backyard is heaven.

And sometimes late at night, under the sheets when he’s spent and happy and his arms are full of a tall, warm body, he’s pretty convinced that the pool boy is an honest to goodness angel.

He smiles to himself and stows those thoughts for later, carefully lifts his selection out of the drawer and holds it up for Genevieve’s approval.

She tuts and rolls her eyes like he knew she would, smiling coyly at him over her shoulder.

“Red, Jensen?” she asks. “Under a cream blouse?”

“The cream makes you look like shit,” Jensen says, with an unapologetic shrug as he starts toward her. “Washes you out. You should wear the purple, or the teal.”

“Misha likes me in the cream,” she tells him, even as she lifts her arms when he gets closer, lets him slip them through the straps and pull the red silk around her ribs.

It’s a front-close number and he drags his palms across her skin as he moves the cups of the bra towards her breasts. His thumbs catch her nipples as he snaps it closed and they both suck in a sharp breath. Genevieve may not really be his type, but she’s not _not_ his type, either. He really does enjoy his job.

“Misha’s an idiot,” he says, which is not true at all. He’s actually a pretty chill guy. He treats Jensen almost like a friend and he doesn’t seem to mind at all Jensen’s odd place in his wife’s life. But he’s got _horrible_ fashion sense.

He kisses the side of her neck and cups his hands around the underside of her breasts. They’re on the small side, but Jensen likes that. They’re firm and soft and they bounce when he smacks them a little and Genevieve squeaks and sighs and groans when he pinches her nipples and they pebble up underneath the soft crimson material.

Jensen gets a little hard and he eases forward. She tilts her hips back so that the rough outline of denim over stiffening cock drags against her naked ass. She moans again and so does Jensen, this time.

He’s been mostly gay for years now, but there’s just something about a nice set of tits that gets him every time.

She makes a small noise of protest as he steps back, but he ignores her as he turns back to the dresser and searches for the matching panties. 

“Face me,” he whispers against the shell of her ear when he returns.

She turns in his arms and lifts one leg at a time, lets him slide the red silk bikini brief up her thighs and over her hips. His pinky fingers slip under the hem at the back and slide over the globes of her ass and his thumbs give the lips of her vagina a similar, over-the-top treatment as he makes a show of setting the underwear just right against her body.

She shifts in front of him when he’s finished, hands fidgeting and feet shuffling but only just. She’s stunning, colour and cut of the set she’s wearing a perfect fit for the shape and shade of her body. Nobody who didn’t know her so well would even realise she was waiting for approval. Jensen smiles and leans forward and down, tilting her chin up with the brush of a finger.

“Perfect,” he breathes out against her lips. He doesn’t kiss her, though. It’s a tease, all of this, but that’s a line they won’t cross. He puts his hands on her hips, digs his fingers in until she flinches and turns her back toward the mirror. “Now, where’s that godawful cream blouse of yours?”

She laughs and glances to the garment rack next to the mirror, where Jensen knows damn well that all her potential outfits for this evening are waiting. Jensen put them there, after all, this afternoon when Genevieve was out at the country club.

He helps her into the top they settled on – three quarter sleeves of chiffon, low back and just a shade too translucent. Especially given Jensen’s choice of undergarment. He bypasses her preferred black pencil skirt, however and chooses a deep red A-line that lands just above the knee. He tucks her blouse in and fastens the skirt from behind.

He steps away once more to retrieve a pair of nude pumps from the rack. She used to wear sequined, strappy stilettos every chance she got – weird issue with wanting to look taller or sparkly or something, Jensen doesn’t know – but Jensen’s worked long and hard to convince her that if she goes classic with her shoes, she can be bold elsewhere.

He places them on the floor in front of her, then curls up against her back. He bends her over, slowly, easily because maybe she’s right – she is _tiny_ – and he helps her slip them on, lazily grinding against her ass the whole time. 

He smoothes out a few wrinkles in the gathering of her clothes when he stands again, adjusts the shoulder placement and smiles, holding out his hand. Genevieve raises her eyebrow but she places her hand in his and allows him to spin her as they both watch her reflection.

“You look beautiful,” he tells her.

“I look scandalous,” she counters, pulling on her blouse so that it tightens and loosens, frowning when her deep red bra (a perfect match to her skirt and yes, Jensen planned that all along) shows even more.

Jensen laughs, deep and low and presses his front against her back, wraps his arms around her.

“Tell Misha I said ‘you’re welcome’,” he says, smiling against the top of her head.

She’s conflicted, Jensen call tell. She knows she looks good, knows Misha will think so too, but she feels exposed and improper.

“I promise you, sweetheart,” he tells her, holding her tighter, “you’ll be the most beautiful person in the room. And if I know Misha, you’re gonna get fucked so good when you get home…”

She blushes deeper and rolls her eyes, shakes Jensen off so she can grab her purse from her vanity.

“You’re fired,” she tells him, scowling as she strides out of the room and down the stairs to meet her husband.

“Happy anniversary!” Jensen calls after her, laughing.

Once she’s gone his smile changes, loosens and turns sly as he opens Genevieve’s top drawer again. He riffles to the back, where he knows she’s stashed her latest gift to him. He feels it before he sees it, eyes fluttering closed as he shivers.

He retrieves the small paper bag, knows it holds the very same bra and panty set that he dressed her in just moments ago, only several sizes larger and he whistles happily to himself as he climbs the stairs to his room on the fourth floor. He enjoys his job, he likes to dress up his dolls, but his real fun is just about to start.

When he pushes the door open Jared is already waiting for him, standing naked in front of the single full length mirror by the window.

“Honey, I’m home,” he calls and Jared looks over his shoulder, smiling. His eyes track down Jensen’s chest to his groin and he raises an eyebrow when he sees the front of Jensen’s pants, full with the thickness of his arousal.

“Good day at the office?” Jared teases.

Jensen doesn’t answer. Jared likes to tease but he doesn’t get jealous, not anymore. He knows that in his heart Jensen has been his and his alone for years now. 

Jensen just fishes a finger into the paper bag and loops the straps of the lingerie over his finger, lifting them up and holding them out, letting Jared get a good look.

Jared breathes in deeply and turns to face the mirror again, limbs going loose and easy for Jensen to manipulate.

“Ready when you are,” Jared tells him.

“I’m always ready, baby,” Jensen answers, as he drops the bag at the door and crosses to Jared. He still smells a little like chlorine, when Jensen sticks his face into the back of Jared’s neck, but Jensen can live with it. It reminds him of the pool. The long summer days when they’re left alone. Jared’s long, naked form sluicing the water with his laps as Jensen waits, patiently with his scotch.

Jared melts back into him, Jensen grinds forward and they both sigh happily, finally home.

Jensen tosses the bra to the window sill, wanting to leave it for last. He teases the edges of the panties up and down Jared’s legs, over his ass, between his cheeks. Then he tosses those to the side as well, for now, as he takes hold of Jared’s sides and presses close, licks up the dip of his spine.

With Jared, he wants to take his time.

END


End file.
